The Past of a Mad King
by RomanticRuffian77
Summary: Most people know Gangrel as an insane, sadistic tyrant. But what was he really like before he was king? Explore Gangrel's past to find out what his life was like as a young man, why he went crazy, and what his relationship with Emmeryn was like before his days as king.
1. Chapter 1

_Many years before Gangrel's days as king, back when he was 15 years old._

Gangrel wandered the open streets of Plegia. On a hot, sunny day like this people usually stayed inside, but Gangrel didn't care what the weather was like. He walked up to the town well and looked down. It was dried up. Plegia was going through a harsh drought. No rain had come for months. Having nothing better to do, Gangrel reclined on the well and stood there for thirty minutes. When he was done he got up and left town.

Gangrel was a handsome young man, with his dark red hair slicked back with grease. He was slim and tall. Since he was in poverty he wore a ripped cloak most of the time, but on the really hot days of Plegia he wore a torn shirt with the sleeves ripped off and tattered shorts.

He soon reached the slums of Plegia. The place was run-down and old. Gangrel walked to the far end of the slums where he lived. His home was a ramshackle, half-collapsed house that was farthest from the other houses in the slums. He had found it to be the ideal place of a loner like him. Walking through the doorway, he went over to a wooden bench and sat down.

"Well, today was boring," he said to himself, "but then again so was any other day during this wretched drought. No rain, and I have barely enough to live by to begin with" He grabbed a small box from a shelf and opened it. In it were three moldy bread crusts. Gangrel sighed. "Well, one for breakfast, one for lunch, and one for dinner. Then I will eventually starve to death." He shut the box and put it back on the shelf.

He got up and went to another part of the house. This was his bedroom. Torn blankets and the wooden floor served as his bed. A wooden plank with a cloth wrapped around was his pillow. The room had ripped curtains draped over the windows to keep the room dark, and Gangrel fixed the door so it would stay shut when he wanted it shut. He crawled under his blankets and put his head on his makeshift pillow. He thought about running away from his country and to one of the neighboring countries. He then had trouble thinking of a country that would actually accept him as a new citizen.

"Nah, not Ylisse. Their exalt has something against Plegians. And Ferox is too cold. Maybe I'll sail to Valm and find work there. But to do that I would need a boat. Oh well. I'll think more about it tomorrow." He turned over and went to sleep.

The next day Gangrel decided to find work somewhere. When he walked outside he noticed that it was cooler than yesterday. He changed into a torn shirt and ragged pants, and then walked to the main town of Plegia. He wandered around town and looked for somewhere he might work, but there was no place that needed more employees. Slightly disappointed, he decided to go into the Plegian Tavern. He had been in there many times. He smelled a strong scent of liquor in the air whenever he went there. Having nothing else to do, he decided to gamble with some of the other Plegians. He pulled out five gold coins from his cloak, and placed them on the table. The Plegians gambling laughed. One of them went up to Gangrel and asked him:

"Hey kid. You really want to gamble with the big boys?"

Gangrel nodded and smirked. "Yes. Since I have so little to begin with, I figured it would be best if I took my chances in gambling."

"Whatever you say," the Plegian said. The other gamblers were snickering as they placed their bets on the tables. There was approximately 5,000 in gold on the table. The way Plegians gamble is that each man rolls three dice when it's their turn. Then one with the largest number won the game. Each man rolled the dice. Then it was Gangrel's turn. He let the dice roll on the table and could not believe his eyes. He had rolled a larger number than all of the other Plegians. They had saw this too, and were astonished.

Gangrel took all of the money and put it into his cloak pockets. The other Plegians congratulated him on his win and told him he was always welcome to play again. Gangrel thanked them for their kind words and left to buy food for him. He had bought himself a couple of loaves of bread along with a bottle of water. Since Plegia had no water at the moment, the Plegians had to trade with Regna Ferox, which had an abundant supply of water. After he finished shopping, he walked back home. Since he didn't want his food to go bad fast, he moved a rug on the floor, which uncovered a hidden cellar door. His cellar was possibly the coldest place in all of Plegia. Climbing down a ladder, he went up to a chest and opened it. Putting his food in there, he shut the chest and put a lock on it. He didn't have the key that went to it, but he was an expert on opening locks without keys. Heading back up to the main floor, he covered the cellar door and went outside. The sun was setting a little earlier than usual.

"Ah, what a day. Let's call it a day and see what tomorrow has in store." He went inside his house and into his bedroom. Covering himself with his blankets, he said to himself, "You know, the only thing that would've made this day even better is if I had a friend to hang out with. But who am I kidding? No one wants to hang around with me." Gangrel turned over and closed his eyes. "Ah well. I've always lived by myself. And I sure can live like that forever"

The next few days were pretty great for Gangrel. Gambling with the other Plegians at the tavern, he had amassed over 20,000 in gold. He then bought enough provisions to last him a month, and still had a lot of gold left. After he had stored his wealth and food in the cellar, he wondered how the days could get any better.

His answer came when one day, after months of drought, a thunderstorm appeared. Rain was pouring on the usually dry Plegia. Gangrel was so joyful he ran outside in the rain for hours wearing his ripped shirt and shorts. He was still running around in the rain when he heard something. He stopped and listened. Besides the pouring rain he could hear what sounded like someone trudging through the rain. He walked towards the sound, thinking it was another Plegian that was lost in the rain. He instead found something different.

A young girl around his age wearing fancy garments was wandering through the rain. He walked up to her to ask why someone like her was wandering around like this. When she saw him she backed away in fear, but as he slowly approached her she started to trust him. She rushed to him, shivering from the cold. Gangrel, seeing she was cold, guided her to his home.

Bringing her inside, he took his cloak from where it was hanging and wrapped her with it. He uncovered the entrance to the cellar, and motioned to her to follow him. Still shivering, the girl got up and climbed down the ladder slowly. Gangrel shut the cellar door, went to one of his chests, and pulled out some torches and torch holders. Taking the two driest sticks, he rubbed them together until he lit them with a spark. He then lit the other ones and put them on the cellar walls with the torch holders. After a few minutes the cellar started to warm up.

Gangrel looked at the shivering girl. Finding a spare change of clothes in a chest, he gave them to her and kept himself busy in another chest until she had finished changing. Looking up from his chest, he saw that she had stopped shivering, and she was now examining his cellar with a look of curiosity.

"There's not much to look at, but this is where I keep most of my stuff."

The girl turned to look at him. She gave him a weak but friendly smile. Gangrel couldn't help but smile back. She then came closer to him. Gangrel stood there and let her approach him. The girl then wrapped her arms around Gangrel and buried her face into his chest, sobbing.

"T-Thank you for rescuing me, s-sir," she said to him in a quiet voice.

Not knowing what to do, Gangrel stroked her long, blonde hair and held her with his open arm. This seemed to comfort her, and she eventually stopped crying and looked up into Gangrel's eyes.

"What's your name?"

"Huh? Oh, it's just Gangrel." Gangrel answered.

The girl smiled. "What a nice name. I'm Emmeryn."

"I have to ask, what are you doing in these parts of Plegia?" Gangrel had been waiting to ask this question for a long time. Few ever visited the slums, visitor and Plegian alike.

"Oh. I was chased out of my country by some bandits. When I first saw you I thought you were a bandit, but as you got closer I saw that you weren't."

Gangrel had another question. "Do you always tend to cling on to everyone you see?"

Emmeryn started to blush. "Um, no I don't," she said, letting go of Gangrel. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's nothing," Gangrel replied, "Just wondering, that's all. Found it a little weird for someone to cling so tightly to someone they just met."

Gangrel sat down on a chest. "I don't know how long the rain will last, so we might be stuck down here for a long time."

Emmeryn smiled, not feeling down about the thought of being stuck in the cellar for some time. "That's alright. I feel safe knowing you're hear, Gangrel."

Gangrel couldn't hold back a smile. "Yeah, well I'm not going anywhere now, am I?" So the two of them stayed in the cellar for a couple days. Gangrel didn't know when the rain would stop, but when it did he was going to have another problem: getting Emmeryn back to her country and home.

Gangrel lifted the cellar door. Not hearing the rain pour onto the ground, he assumed that the storm was over. He climbed out of the cellar and went outside. It was hot, but not as hot as it was during the drought. Looking to an old sundial he found in the Plegia dump, he saw that it was early morning. He went back inside to get Emmeryn.

"Hey Emmeryn, the rain has stopped and the sun is out. You can come up now."

Emmeryn climbed up the ladder out of the cellar. Remembering something, Gangrel jumped down into the cellar. He blew out the torches, grabbed Emmeryn's still soaked garments, and climbed back up. Shutting the cellar door and covering it back up, he went outside.

"Reckon I'll have to find a place to hang these up and let them dry." He said to himself. Emmeryn came outside to see what he was doing.

"Oh. You don't have to dry those for me. You've already done enough for me. You don't need to trouble yourself with my welfare," she said to him.

Gangrel, ignoring her, merely grabbed a wooden beam that was slightly jutting out of the side of the house and pulled it out more. He set the garments on the beam to hang in the morning sun. Gangrel then turned and walked toward Emmeryn.

"Give it ten minutes or so," he said, "You won't have to wear my old, ragged clothes when they're done drying."

Emmeryn smiled shyly. "Thanks Gangrel, but I'm not bothered by wearing any of your spare clothes. You don't have to tire yourself trying to help me, if you don't want to."

Gangrel shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I'm usually bored everyday, so this gives me something to do." Scratching the back of his head, he added "Well, what do you wanna do now?"

Emmeryn seemed to be deep in thought. Gangrel reclined on his house and waited for a reply. After some time she looked at Gangrel and then brightened. "Oh yeah! I was going to ask you something." Gangrel stood up and stretched. "Yeah sure, ask away."

"Will you show me around Plegia? I want to see everything with my own eyes."

Gangrel gave her an incredulous look. "Are you sure? There's not much to look at here in Plegia. Just sand and sun."

Emmeryn nodded. "Yes. Well, if you want to."

Gangrel thought about it, and then considered it. "Yeah sure, I'll show you around Plegia. Just stick by me so you don't get lost."

Emmeryn smiled cheerfully. "Oh, thank you! You are such a gentleman Gangrel." Gangrel felt warm and fuzzy, and it wasn't from the hot sun. Scratching his head, he said "Well what're we waiting for? Let's go."

So Gangrel and Emmeryn left for the capital of Plegia, which was the largest city in all of Plegia. Gangrel thought to himself as they walked.

"_This is a little hard to take in. A foreigner, wanting a tour of possibly the worst country that ever existed. I think this Emmeryn girl knows more than she is letting on. Well the only way to find out is to play along, and play along I shall._"


	2. Chapter 2

The capital city of Plegia was full of people bustling around to different places. To make sure they didn't get separated, Emmeryn grabbed Gangrel's hand and held it tight. Since he had only been to the capital city once, Gangrel didn't know his way around very well. Fortunately for him, there was a large map of Plegia's capital in one of the plazas. Memorizing the location of everything, he set off with Emmeryn to the heart of the city.

"_Wow Gangrel, what a great idea,_" he thought to himself, "_bring her to the capital of Plegia, a place so large and busy anyone can get lost within seconds. This might end up bad if we get separated._"

Emmeryn, seeming to know his thoughts, locked her arm with his arm that she was holding. They continued to stroll through what Gangrel called "the Main Street" of the city. Both Gangrel and Emmeryn both looked around in amazement at the large, fancy architecture of the buildings. People were running to and fro from shops and markets. Children were running through the crowds giggling and laughing as they chased each other. Soldiers guarded the ends of the streets, watching carefully. Emmeryn smiled with amazement as she gazed at everything and everyone.

Feeling his legs start to give way, Gangrel suggested they call it a day and go home. So they made their back way to the city gate and left for Gangrel's house. When they got there, Gangrel took Emmeryn's now dry garments and gave them to her. He waited outside so she could change back into her garments. When she was done, he went inside. Feeling tired, he let himself collapse on his bed.

"_I have a feeling I'm forgetting something,_" he thought to himself. He looked up and saw Emmeryn standing in the bedroom doorway. Then he remembered.

"Oh yeah. I forgot you don't have a place to sleep."

Emmeryn shook her head. "It's not necessary Gangrel. I feel I've asked too much of you in only a couple days."

Gangrel merely stood up and walked past Emmeryn through the doorway. "You can sleep there. It may not look like much, but it's actually pretty comfortable."

Emmeryn grabbed his shoulder. "But where will you sleep Gangrel? I don't see another place where you would sleep."

Gangrel shrugged. "I don't know. I'll find a place to take a nap. There's always an empty space for me sleep in here, I just need to find one."

Emmeryn tried to find a different solution. "You can sleep in your bed Gangrel. I can just wrap myself in your cloak and sleep on the floor."

"For one, whoever is sleeping in my bed is on the floor anyway," he explained, "and I don't know if my cloak is going to keep you warm. It's gonna get really cold tonight, possibly the coldest night Plegia will ever face."

Emmeryn thought of another solution. "We could sleep together," she suggested. She already knew the answer to that. Gangrel turned around and grimaced.

"Now, let's not get crazy here. Although, if the weather does get any colder, we may have to." Gangrel shuddered at the thought. "Ugh, I hope we do not have resort to that at all."

Gangrel thought harder for a better solution, but he couldn't. He decided to go with the only plan he had left.

"Alright. You sleep in my bed, and I'll sleep on the floor."

Emmeryn shook her head. "No, come with me. I'm not letting you freeze to death. What am I going to do if you freeze to death?"

Gangrel was taken aback. He didn't think of himself as important at all, and yet Emmeryn considered him to be her everything at the moment. Not finding anything to say, he sighed. "Fine. If you want me to, I can." Emmeryn smiled at him and sighed in relief. She turned and went to his bedroom. Gangrel followed behind her. He let her get herself comfortable in his bed first, then he slid under his covers. He tried not to have too much body contact with Emmeryn.

"Oh Gangrel," she said, and she wrapped her arms around him and held him close. "I think we've known each other long enough that this is okay."

Gangrel grimaced. "Are you sure, because I'm not."

Emmeryn ignored him. She buried her face into his chest and tightened her grip. Gangrel felt it was getting hard to breathe. He let his body relax and let himself fall to sleep.

"_Hmm. I can't remember a time in my life that someone was so fond of me, even if we did just meet. This Emmeryn girl must think it's normal and okay to sleep with everyone you meet. I, on the other hand, find it disturbing. It's not normal, even for Plegia and its inhabitants. We may have our weird moments, but we know where to draw the line. Maybe she was neglected as a child for a long time, and no one ever loved her or gave her any attention. Maybe she just wants to feel like she belongs to someone. She honestly reminds me…of me._"

* * *

Gangrel opened his eyes. He felt comfortably warm, and it wasn't from the hot Plegia sun. He looked at Emmeryn. She was still clinging to him, but she was now nuzzling her head under his chin. Since he could not find a way to get up, he decided to just lie there and let the time pass. After what seemed to be hours of waiting, Emmeryn woke up.

"Oh Gangrel, good morning," she said sweetly.

"Gangrel pried his arms from Emmeryn's tight embrace and held her shoulders. "Emm," he said, "did you sleep well? I couldn't breathe, so I hope your night was better than mine."

Emmeryn giggled, and Gangrel wondered why.

"Emm," she said, "is that a pet name you've given to me? I've never had one before." She beamed at him. "Should I give you one as well?"

Gangrel sighed. "Whatever pleases ya."

Emmeryn looked at him with a curious look. "What? Do you not want one?"

"What, no it's alright. I don't mind. We're…friends…so I guess you can."

Emmeryn brightened. "You…you consider us friends?"

"_Okay Gangrel, just say yes,_" he thought, "_it will brighten her day, and she might become more happy as the days go by. I know, it's only been a couple days, and it's like we've just met, but just do it and get it over with._"

Gangrel nodded and grinned. "Yeah. Wouldn't you?"

Emmeryn hugged him tightly. "Oh Gangrel, you're the best. I don't know if you think so, but it's like I've known you for a long time."

"_Really, because I've only started to get to know you._"

Emmeryn then let him go. "Hey wait. There's one place you forgot to show me."

Gangrel looked at her in disbelief. "What are you talking about? I've showed you literally every inch of Plegia."

Emmeryn shook her head. "No, you forgot here. The slums. You've never showed me around these parts of Plegia."

Gangrel slapped his hand to his face. The slums. How did he forget? Of all the places in Plegia, he had forgotten the slums.

Emmeryn grabbed his hand. "Well, now that you remembered, shall we head off?"

Gangrel smiled and shook his head. "Ah, the slums. How did I forget? Well, now I remembered. Whenever you're ready Emm."

Emmeryn giggled again at the use of her new pet name, then dragged Gangrel out from his house. Emmeryn seemed to be even happier than usual.

There was not much to look at in the slums. The place was a dump. Run-down houses marked the sides of the streets. Old ruins of homes were around every corner. But there was something out of place in this dump of a place. In the very center of the slums was an old, yet still standing and beautiful sundial. In days where sandstorms kicked up and blew fiercely, the area around the sundial was the only place where the sun still touched the ground.

Gangrel and Emmeryn rushed up to the old sundial. Emmeryn gazed at it with awe and fascination. Gangrel, who had seen the sundial many times, merely looked up at the sky. There were usually no clouds in the sky, but today the sky was full of clouds.

"Yep. We can expect cooler weather to come for the next few days or so." Gangrel looked at Emmeryn, who was still gazing upon the sundial. "You know one of the things that makes the sundial so interesting," Gangrel said, "is the fact that no one knows how it got there. It just appeared there one day, and us Plegians had no idea where it had come from."

Emmeryn turned to face Gangrel. "Gangrel, can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, I might have an answer."

"Are you a Grimleal?"

Gangrel laughed hard and shook his head. "Pah, those old, wrinkled warts with those dusty tomes? No, I'm Grimleal only by name, not by faith."

Emmeryn looked somewhat relived when he said this. "So you don't worship Grima? Oh, that's a relief."

Gangrel waved his hands in the air, as if to point out the fact was obvious. "Well yeah. Do you honestly think I'm going to worship a demonic, dragon of destruction that wants to kill everybody?"

Gangrel then fell backwards into the sand and started laughing. "HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! Now that I think about it, why do they worship a dragon that wants to kill them all? It makes no sense! BWA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"

Emmeryn started to laugh with him. The two of them laughed uncontrollably for a few minutes. Then Emmeryn helped Gangrel to his feet, and they headed off back to Gangrel's house.

"Well, that's the slums," Gangrel said to her. "So, now what do you want to do?"

Emmeryn seemed already prepared to answer the question, because she answered him immediately after he was done talking.

"I was wondering, Gangrel, if I could stay in Plegia for a few more years. I want to live the life of a Plegian, walk in their shoes, and see life from a different angle."

Gangrel thought he had never heard such crazier words in his life. It was one thing for somebody to sightsee in Plegia, but it was a weirder thing to hear one say they _want_ to live in Plegia.

"Are you sure? I'm warning you, it's not pleasant living in Plegia."

Emmeryn nodded. "Yes. I have made my choice, and you aren't changing it."

Gangrel grinned. "I like your attitude, Emm. Very well, if you want to stay in Plegia—and I've never heard of anyone that ever wanted to—you can."

Emmeryn beamed and embraced Gangrel tightly—again. "Oh, thank you Gangrel! You're the best!"

Gangrel felt he might regret his decision sometime soon. "Alright, alright. You can let go now." Emmeryn released him, still smiling at him. Gangrel started to pace. "Okay, now that we solved that matter, what do we do now?"

"You can find me a change of clothes that more—suitable for living here."

Gangrel opened up the cellar door and slid down the ladder. He opened a chest that was full of clothes that were too small for him. He dug in there for a few minutes.

"Do these work?" He called up to Emmeryn, holding a sleeveless shirt and slightly torn shorts. Emmeryn came down to get a better look.

"Yes, those will do," she said to him. He handed her his old shirt and shorts, then turned back to the chest.

"What are you doing?" Emmeryn asked.

"Finding something that's a suitable blindfold," he answered. He pulled out a ripped pair of pants and wrapped them around his eyes.

"Alright. Hurry up and change, so I don't have to wear old pants over my eyes."

He reclined on the chest that had his old clothes on it and waited for Emmeryn to change.

"Wow Gangrel. These are a perfect fit!"

Gangrel sighed in relief. It was hard to find a suitable piece of clothing that would actually fit her. He heard Emmeryn approach him. "Here, I'll take your blindfold off." She gently and slowly took off his blindfold. "Well, what do you think?

Gangrel couldn't find anywhere to start. If she looked pretty with her royal garments on before—and she did—she looked even more beautiful now. Gangrel couldn't figure out why. His hand-me-down shirt and shorts were far from good-looking when he had them in his hands, but when Emmeryn put them on they seemed almost brand new or as if she had been wearing them her whole life. Gangrel was stunned.

"I—I…wow…I don't know what to say. You're…perfection in every way possible."

Emmeryn blushed. "Oh stop. Wait…you mean that?"

Gangrel nodded in reply. "I ain't kidding you, Emm. Such beauty has never been found anywhere in Plegia."

Tears formed in Emmeryn's eyes. Gangrel got up to comfort her. She let herself cry into his shoulder. "I'm so glad you think that. I feel like so much better hearing that. No one has ever said that to me in my life."

Gangrel wondered what kind of sad life Emmeryn was possibly living before she came to Plegia. Not that he was any better off. Emmeryn was right. They've only known each other for a few days and yet it feels they have been friends for a long time. But now it was going to be a few years with Emmeryn, and Gangrel sensed their friendly relationship would strengthen over time. He stroked her hair gently.

"Don't cry Emmeryn. Everything is going to be all right. If you didn't feel you belonged anywhere before, you belong here with me. And if I must add, I need to go to the markets."

Emmeryn let go of him, wiping her eyes dry. "Okay, but I'm going with you. If I want to live like a Plegian, I must learn the daily routine of one as well. Lead the way Gangrel."

* * *

Gangrel took her arm, and they went off to the Plegian markets. Here, Gangrel needed to stock up on more provisions to support two people. He went to the Plegian Tavern to gamble with the other Plegians, who considered him a regular visitor of the bar and a new friend. (He told Emmeryn to wait outside the Plegian Tavern, as it reeked of liquor and a girl like her was not safe around drunken Plegians. Emmeryn didn't mind having to wait outside, she just told him to come out with his mind intact.) When he was done, he collected his winnings and left with Emmeryn. As they were walking, Emmeryn asked him a question.

"When I look at all the passerby, I can't help but notice that none of them are carrying weapons. Back at my country, almost everyone carried some kind of weapon with them. Why don't the Plegians carry any weapons with them?"

"We Plegians don't like fights and war. We have weapons, but we leave them at home. We settle things peacefully, and only use our weapons in war or to stop thieves trying to rob our homes. The only Plegians that don't care about violence or peace would be the Grimleal and our crazy king. Most of us actually forget that we even have a king, and people attend the Grimleal rituals halfheartedly."

Emmeryn nodded in understanding. "I wish the people in my country would do the same. They always get in fights and try to kill one another."

Gangrel raised his eyebrows. "Oh really? Wow, I could never imagine such a place that even existed. I've heard of hostile nations, but that sounds ridiculous."

"Well, that's what it is. I know you don't prefer Plegia as your home country, but I would prefer it over my home country. In fact, with you I already feel like I've lived here for my whole life. Ah, I wish that were true."

Gangrel was still trying to work out in his mind a violent, war-loving country full of barbaric people. Before, he thought the only person crazy enough to love war and destruction was the Plegian king, but now he was having second thoughts.

"Emm, I think I'm going to head to the Plegian springs to wash myself off."

"Okay. I'll wait for you here."

Gangrel headed to the springs. He felt he had not bathed in a long time. He stripped him self of his clothes and jumped in the spring water. The spring water was moderately hot, but it was a relaxing kind of hot that loosened the muscles. The spring was up to his chest in depth, and Gangrel swam about in the water for a few minutes. He then jumped out of the spring and put on his shorts first to let his body dry. After he was done drying, he put on his shirt and left to meet up with Emmeryn. He found her waiting where she said she was going to wait.

"Ready to head back home?" He asked, offering his arm.

Emmeryn took his offered arm. "Yes, I think I'm ready."

They headed home, where Gangrel was ready to pass out from today's activities. When they got there, Gangrel headed to his bedroom and dropped on the bed. He groaned from exhaustion.

"Ohhh, I'm so tired. I'm glad I went to the spring, it sure helped to rejuvenate some energy."

Emmeryn looked confused about something. "Gangrel, wouldn't the springs burn you excruciatingly hard?"

"No. There's something special about the springs here in Plegia. People say it was blessed by—what was the name of the Divine Dragon that the Ylisseans worship? Oh yeah—Naga. They say Naga's blessing on the springs makes them painless despite the heat and rejuvenates your energy. It also soothes any muscle cramps I may have."

"Do you believe that? That Naga really did bless those springs?"

Gangrel looked up to her. "Yes, yes I do. In fact, Naga is whom I put faith in instead to Grima. I wouldn't be surprised if the other Plegians did the same."

Emmeryn went and lay beside him. She brought her arms around him and brought him close. She also seemed unusually relaxed after Gangrel had said this.


	3. Chapter 3

Gangrel woke up with Emmeryn snuggling up to him. He tried to pry himself from her, but she had an iron grip. Gangrel tried rolling over. That made things worse. Emmeryn was now on top of him, and he couldn't get up now that she had him pinned down as well. Gangrel sighed. He laid there and started thinking to himself.

"_Ah, well here I lay, pinned down and helpless. I don't think I've ever been this close to anybody before. I don't know why, but it feels…nice. However, I would feel much better if she would hold off from all of this close holding and touching for a while. It doesn't seem right. Ah well. Might as well learn to cope with it eventually._"

Gangrel suddenly remembered something. Today was the day the Plegian king gave his yearly announcements. He couldn't be late. Gangrel tried to wake Emmeryn.

"Hey Emm, wake up! We've got to go to the king's annual announcement ceremony!"

Emmeryn woke up and jumped off Gangrel. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Gangrel put on his cloak in a flash. He and Emmeryn bolted out the door and rushed to the Plegian capital. They soon made it to the front courtyard of the Plegian castle. People were all waiting for the king to make his appearance. Gangrel felt someone grip his arm, and saw that Emmeryn was holding onto it tightly.

"_Must be nervous with all the Plegians around,_" he thought to himself. "_Wouldn't blame her. I wouldn't feel safe and secure around a bunch of strangers. Hmm, I wonder what is keeping the king. He is never this late for his yearly address._"

"Hey Gangrel," Emmeryn asked, "Who is the king of Plegia?"

"Well, that would be king Vladmire. People fear him because when he's riled, he's like a vicious barbarian. He's really insane and a tyrant, but we seem to forget him. Our king is ignored by just about everyone, and he is usually forgotten until the day he gives his yearly address."

"How come everyone ignores him and forgets him until his annual address?"

"Well, the one year we forgot…let's just say he was enraged for about the rest of the year, and never really let go of that incident yet. Huh? Oh, here he comes."

Vladmire appeared on the balcony. He was a large, unshaven man who wore heavy, black armor. He held a massive axe in one hand, and a scroll in the other. His black cape blew in the hot, desert wind.

"Citizens of Plegia!" He called out, "The time has come for yet another yearly address." He leaned his axe on the balcony railing and opened the scroll.

"For starters, we are now trading partners with Ferox for a few more years. We need the traded water, and they need our… valuable desert resources. Also, our population has gone up quite a bit. Comparing our last census to our recent one, our population has grown by about 276 people. On top of that, business is expanding and we are even surpassing the Ylisseans in terms of economic growth. This is a good sign, my friends and children!"

"Oh yes. We also have some promotions to give out to faithful Plegians in the army and in service to the king. We start of with Campari, who is being moved up to the rank of commander. He is a well-known Plegian veteran who has served us for more than 47 years. Next is Mustafa, who will be moved up to the rank of general. He is also a well-known veteran of Plegia, who has helped to keep Plegia safe for years and many more to come. And Validar, the head priest of Grimleal worship, has now been promoted to be my chief advisor. His wisdom will help to keep Plegia growing and safe."

"Now then, we shall move on to new recruits in the Plegian army. Since they are the new soldiers to defend us, it makes sense to introduce you to them in person. The first recruit I will introduce to you is Private Orton."

The gates under the balcony opened, and a young man around Gangrel's age appeared. The recruit named Orton had short brown hair and wielded a hand axe, one of the basic starting weapons for new soldiers in the Plegian army.

"The next recruit is Vasto. Unlike the other recruits, he will be joining the army as a lieutenant for General Mustafa."

Another young man around Gangrel's age appeared. He stood beside Orton. This one had a smug grin on his face and wielded a steel axe. The more experienced Plegian soldiers only used steel axes, so Gangrel assumed that Vasto had trained for battle for a long time. As Vladmire listed off more recruits, Gangrel started to fall asleep. He closed his eyes and felt his head drop. After a while he woke up, and found his head resting on Emmeryn's shoulder. He shook himself awake, and listened to the rest of Vladmire's speech.

"Alright. Now the final thing I will say today is this. For about 12 years, we've lived in peace. But, I'm afraid to say that it may soon end. Ylisse's king is getting restless, and we may need to take action if he attempts to instigate a war. I know what most of you are probably thinking. War is pointless, war will destroy both Plegia and Ylisse, war will destroy all signs of peace. Well I say this: in order to have peace, we must destroy all forms of evil. If we do not, there will be no lasting peace. If we do not stop the root of it, more wars will take place, bleeding all countries dry. Are we not Plegians? Haven't we fought for peace throughout the continent? I know, you say I am a crazy dictator who loves violence, and for you good citizens I will not deny that it may be true. But even the craziest dictator knows where to draw the line. Even the most violent tyrant knows when to stop fighting and killing innocents. Even the most wretched villain knows he can change his ways, if he works hard for it. So long a man has even a shrivel of sanity left, he knows it's never too late. He knows there is still hope. Believe me, it took me until now to realize this. That is why my address will end with a promise. I promise to you all, citizens of Plegia, that I will become a better king."

With those last words, he rolled up his scroll, picked up his axe and headed back inside the castle. Gangrel left with Emmeryn at his side. He had never thought he would hear sensible words from the king in his life. King Vladmire, a king with a reputation for being insane and for loving war, spoke about fighting for lasting peace and destroying evil in all of its forms. King Vladmire was slowly changing, Gangrel thought, into a more sensible king. The only possibility that came to his mind was that Plegia was possibly seeing a major change. Or everyone was going mad.

When he got home he dropped to his bed. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. The king's address was over, and all Gangrel wanted to do was rest. He rolled over and was soon fast asleep, hearing nothing but the Plegian winds.

* * *

"Gangrel! Gangrel! Please wake up! Gangrel!"

Gangrel woke up to find Emmeryn shaking him frantically. Gangrel grabbed her wrists and eased her hands off of him.

"Alright, calm down! What's going on?"

Emmeryn pulled Gangrel to his feet. "A gang of brigands is setting fire to all of Plegia that they can reach!"

Gangrel could hear the terrified screams of civilians outside. He looked out a window and could see a fire ablaze. He looked back to Emmeryn.

"Emm, we need to get to the Plegian capital city. It's the most heavily guarded place in Plegia."

Gangrel put on his cloak, filling it with all his gold. Without another word, he and Emmeryn were running through the blazing destruction around them to the capital city of Plegia. As they were running, however, a brigand jumped out at them. Emmeryn screamed as Gangrel ducked to avoid getting himself beheaded by the brigand's blade. He kicked the brigand in the shins, knocking the thief to his knees. Gangrel took the brigand's sword, then pointed to the brigand's head.

"Alright. Who are you?"

The brigand looked up to Gangrel. The thief wore a mask that covered his mouth. He didn't seem threatened by the blade pointing at him.

"My name does not matter, but our leaders are at the capital."

The bandit then dropped to the ground. Gangrel flipped him over and found him passed out or dead. A look of fear went across his face. He turned to Emmeryn.

"Emm, take my cloak. Find the nearest shelter in the capital when you get there. I'm going to find these gang leaders."

Emmeryn didn't seem to have the will to argue, so she took his cloak and ran off. Gangrel went the other direction to go through the back entrance of the capital city.

"_This is probably suicide. I'm not experienced for this. In a few seconds I'll be a dead body. I pray that we don't get into a fight._"

He got to the center of the capital. Brigands wearing masks covering their mouths were running about. Some of them saw him and started to approach. Before they even got close to him, Gangrel heard someone––or some people––calling them off. He looked to see who it was.

Six men were walking into the center of the capital. They all wore dark uniforms of some kind. Dark blue armor covered the black cloth of the uniforms. And they all wore masks. These masks, however, covered their faces entirely. Not one mask was the same, to symbolize that there wasn't a supreme leader, but six leaders. Two of them wielded swords, two of them wielded axes, and two of them wielded tomes.

Gangrel realized what he was looking at now. These were dread fighters. Gangrel thought he would never get to see one, as they were legendary and rare. A thought struck him with fear. He remembered that these were the leaders of the band of thieves that were running around.

"Who are you?" Gangrel called out to them.

"We are the Masked Devils Brigade," one of them said to him. "Demons of the Desert."

Gangrel shuddered. The name sent chills down his spine.

"Ha ha ha! Look at him! Cowering in our presence."

"Heh. Scram kid. You don't belong here."

"Don't mess with us kid. Our hearts are cold and dark. We don't spare anyone."

"You little punk. You don't stand a chance."

Gangrel looked to the Plegian castle. He felt his courage return. He gripped his sword tighter.

"I'm sorry, but as there is no way to settle this peacefully, I'm afraid I must do this."

He dashed at the six dread fighters.

"We were given this world, and we ain't about to give it up to a little brat!"

"_What an arrogant group of delinquents._"

Gangrel swung his blade at the nearest dread fighter. They blocked it, and retaliated by swinging their axe with the back end, knocking Gangrel into the air. He landed on his feet, and dodged two fireballs launched by the tome wielding dread fighters. One of them kicked up sand in his face, blinding him. Rubbing his eyes to get the sand out, Gangrel was knocked back by a forceful kick to his chest.

"_Nrgh, I think I broke a rib or two._"

He tried to get up, but another dread fighter swung the blunt end of his axe into Gangrel's chest again. He was knocked back a second time, but was then set ablaze by one of the tome wielders. He screamed in agony as he fell to his knees burning. He could hear the dread fighters laughing maniacally.

"What a great idea. Burning him to ashes and letting him blow in the desert winds!"

"Ha ha ha! What fun!"

"Hey runt, you do you have the guts to fight us now?"

One of them rushed up to him, sword at the ready. Gangrel clumsily swung his sword at the rogue brigand. The dread fighter yelled out and jumped back. Gangrel had managed to leave a moderate sized cut on his arm. Gangrel looked at the dread fighter with horror. He had never hurt a person in his whole life. The dread fighter snarled at him.

"You think you're so cool, don't you? Well, how would you like it if I—"

The brigand didn't get to finish what he said. A giant axe came from above and cleaved cleanly through his skull. The remaining five looked in horror to see who the axe belong to. Gangrel looked to see King Vladmire standing over the brigand corpse with about 20 men at his side. He felt a cooling sensation behind him. Turning around he saw reinforcements and a mage who had sent an icy cooling spell on him to douse his flames.

"No!" One of the brigands said. "We've stayed here for too long, wasting our time with this little punk. He was holding us here long enough for us to get arrested!"

"Who cares? We won't go without a fight!"

Vladmire merely looked upon them with disbelief. "Alright then. I was just going to have you arrested, but you leave me no choice. Boys," he ordered his troops, "it's time to clean up."

His troops moved at blinding speed; from shooting arrows, to flinging spells, to slicing and dicing at rapid speeds. Within seconds, the rogue dread fighters were now an assortment of severed and burned limbs.

"It's a shame," Vladmire said, "I didn't want to kill them, but they would not reason with me." He looked around at the mess of limbs. "I thought there was another one…someone who was on our side."

"Over there sir!" Shouted a soldier.

Gangrel collapsed onto the stone street. He was starting to lose consciousness. His eyes started to close and his body started to collapse from exhaustion. The last thing he remembered was being brought up by the arms by two people, and the concerned look on his king's face.

* * *

When Gangrel woke up, the first thing that came to his mind was the pain surging through his body. He could not move without some part of his body crying out in pain to him. He slowly looked around to find himself in what he deduced as one of the apartments available in the capital city. He also found lots of his stuff lying around in different places.

"_Well, I was planning on moving out anyway_" He thought to himself. "_Just never had the motivation to do so. Well, now what do I do? I can't very well move around so easily. My body hasn't fully recovered from being burned alive. And yet, has that ever stopped me before? Despite my current condition, I don't think I want to lie around all day._"

He slowly got up from his bed, shrugging off the pain. He looked at himself in a mirror on a wall. He was in pretty bad shape. He had been bandaged all over his body. He must have had lots of burns. He looked really tired. The only feature that seemed to stick out was his hair, which looked like it was groomed nicely and slicked back. He examined it closer and found it to be unsigned.

"Huh. Someone must've attended to my messy hair while I was asleep." Bored, he decided to go outside. Before he got to the door, it swung open and found Emmeryn hugging him tightly.

"Oh Gangrel! You're alright! I thought you might've died for a second."

Gangrel looked at her with a pained expression. "Well yeah. For a second, so did I. And I wouldn't mind if you loosened your grip."

Emmeryn loosened her grip on Gangrel. "Sorry, I forgot about your burns."

"Huh? Oh, it's not those. I can handle them. No, you were suffocating me for a second there."

Gangrel started to stroke her hair. "So, what exactly happened to all of the other bandits? I'm afraid I was out cold for some time."

"They were all locked up into prison. Those who were reluctant to imprisonment were killed on the spot."

"Huh. It's a shame anyone had to die. I've never been a fan of killing in the first place. It is good to know that most were imprisoned. The king usually killed such people, but I'm glad he settled for imprisonment."

"Me too. I was relieved to hear that the king was willing to spare them rather than make a bloody mess out of them."

Gangrel released Emmeryn and lay back on his bed. "Well, I'm getting tired now. It's funny, because I was so ready to move a while ago."

Gangrel closed his eyes and relaxed. All he wanted to do now was lay there and think to himself. He relived the events that happened that day; the frantic run to the capital and the face-off with the six dread fighters. But there was something he should have taken into thought at the time. He remembered now that they had different accents. Two of them had a Plegian accent, two of them had a Ylissean accent, and the other two had a strong Valmese accent. Perhaps that was why they wore masks. It would have been hard to tell who was speaking at the moment. But there was something else that those masks covered, and it wasn't faces.

"_What was with them? Those masks, I've never seen anything like them. I need to find out what they were hiding beneath those masks. I have a really bad feeling about this. Oh well. I'll ask tomorrow._"

Gangrel soon fell asleep. He would go and see King Vladmire the next day and ask if they had not yet disposed the corpse remains of the brigands.

* * *

Gangrel woke up to find himself in a dark room. There were no doors, no windows, no opening of any kind. Just walls. He looked around to see if there was anything of interest. He blinked once, and to his horror the six dread fighters appeared around him. They appeared to be made of broken limbs that were cut and pierced in different ways. Gangrel instantly recognized that they were cut up the exact same way they were when they were all killed. Their eyes glowed an eerie red.

Gangrel didn't know what they wanted. The dread fighters then started to speak to him, in broken, dark voices filled with malice and agony.

"We…are…broken…"

"Broken…but not…wiped out…"

"We lived…by a curse…and we always will…"

"Go…to the dungeons…and you will find…our curse…"

"In time…it will…afflict…everyone."

"So long…that…the bringer of destruction…exists…"

"He…is coming…he…is rallying an army…of the underworld…"

Gangrel was freaking out. What did they mean? A curse? Some bringer of destruction? An army of the underworld?"

"He..will..come…when time…is threatened to be changed…"

"If he gets…back to full strength…the apocalypse…shall follow…"

"To the dungeons…remember us…for we will never…forget…those that left us…"

"Dungeons…"

Gangrel woke up with a start. He didn't know how real that dream was, if it even was a dream, but he decided to heed the command of the dead dread fighters. He got up, feeling better, and headed out. He would decipher what they were trying to tell him, and nothing was going to stop him.


	4. Chapter 4

Gangrel headed to the Plegian Castle. The front door was surprisingly unlocked and wide open. Looking around corners to make sure there were no guards, he rushed inside the giant halls.

"_The guards must still be out. Probably looking for leftover thieves._" Gangrel thought to himself.

Gangrel found the entrance to the lower dungeons. The air got colder as he travelled down the stairs. By the time he reached the bottom, it was bone chilling. Gangrel started looking through the dungeon cells. Some were empty while others had the corpses of dead prisoners still in them. After some time of searching, he finally found the cell he was looking for. The dread fighters, to his surprise, were all there with limbs intact. It was as if someone had taken the liberty to sew and stitch the limbs back to their corpses.

"That's weird," Gangrel said to himself, "I could've sworn I saw them completely obliterated."

Gangrel walked in to the cell. He suddenly had an urge to take off their masks. His hand slowly came toward the mask of the first dread fighter. The mask was cold to the touch, but I came off with ease. Gangrel looked at the face of the dead warrior for a second, before he turned away in disgust and shock.

The face didn't even look human. It was a faded gray with what looked like stitching coming from the corners of the mouth. Where the eyes were supposed to be was instead replaced by two empty sockets. Taking off the masks of the others, he saw it was the same for the others. Gangrel tried to piece things together.

"Alright. They live by a curse, so they will never die. But that can't be, because they were annihilated by our king and his army. Unless…" Gangrel found his answer. "Maybe the reason they can't die…is because they're _already_ _dead_."

Gangrel started to pace. "Then that would explain why they are still intact. By the dark magic they live by, they are simply rebuilt and put back into action." One thing didn't make sense to him. "I would assume that they wouldn't be able to plan and think for themselves, considering that they would be brain dead. These guys, however, made their own decisions and controlled an army of thieves. Maybe some of them can't think for themselves, which is why they have something —like a chief—to lead them in the right direction."

Gangrel soon walked out of the dungeon chamber and out of the castle, still thinking to himself. "_What would confirm this is if I found one of those lesser thieves, dead or alive_."

When Gangrel walked into his room, he found Emmeryn sleeping soundly on his bed. Not wanting to disturb her, he went into the other room to shave his face. His facial hair grew fast, and he never liked it long or scruffy. Grabbing the razor, Gangrel carefully shaved the unwanted beard growing on his jawline. At one point his hand slipped and cut his cheek a bit, making him throw a curse silently as he dropped his razor. After picking it up he continued to shave, being overly cautious with each bit of hair he cut off. When he was finished, Gangrel dressed his cheek with some cloth to cover his shaving cut. Laying down quietly next to Emmeryn, he let his mind wander about what he discovered.

"_Those thieves down there are more than dead; I can tell by both the sight and stench of decay. It makes zero sense to me how that is possible. In addition, I am almost sure it was them who appeared in my dream that night. However, I cannot prove that they are spellbound by any form of dark curse. Perhaps decay can happen in seconds? No, that's stupid. Only magic could do that too._" Gangrel rolled over a bit and held Emmeryn closer to him. Her touch always seemed to relax him immensely. "_What about their warning? That thing they were literally dying to say? Something about time being threatened to change, followed by some god of the underworld, bringing the end of the world as we know it. I don't know how time would ever be threatened; I always thought it followed it stayed on one course. What the hell does any of that have to do with me? I'm just trying to scrap on by, which thankfully has led to a bigger and better living space._" Gangrel looked down to Emmeryn, still asleep. "_Whatever the hell this stupid thing that may or may not even exist is, I won't let it come close to Emmeryn. Speaking of Emm, where did she travel all the way from to decide to come and settle here?_"

Gangrel slowly began to get up. Emmeryn's hand slowly grabbed his shoulder. "When did you get here?" She asked him. "And where are you going?" Gangrel put his hand on Emmeryn's and sighed. To go outside and look for someone." "Look for who?" To this Gangrel was hesitant to respond. If he said he was going to look for one of the rogues from days earlier, she would no doubt refuse to let him go out. His mind was racing to quick find a place where he could find one of those ruffians fast. "K-King Vladmire! Yes! King Vladmire, that's who I am going to go and see." Emmeryn smiled a bit and laid back in bed. "Okay, but please be quick. I get lonely without you here."

With a slight skip in his step Gangrel headed back to Plegian Castle. No doubt the gates were closed this, so he would have to ask the guards if he could enter. As he approached the gates he was racking his brains for an excuse to come in. "_There's someone in prison I would like to speak to? No, too conspicuous. I would like to go to the dungeon? Heh, that'll grant me my wish for sure, right into a cell. Damn, I've got nothing!_" He was already to the doors when a guard stopped him. "Halt, citizen! State your business!" Gangrel said the first excuse that popped in his mind. "I would like to visit my cousin who is currently locked up in prison. May I please enter so I may visit him?" Even he had to admit it was better than his other ideas.

The guard shrugged. "I guess?" He looked upward and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Hey! Open up the gates!" The guard yelled up to the gatekeeper. "We've got a visitor!" In a few seconds the gates of Plegia's great fortress slowly opened. Both guards escorted Gangrel up the path and into the castle. "Aren't you going to ask who I am?" Gangrel questioned. "That's not my job, kid" said one guard dully. "We're just supposed to open the doors and let people inside. "Sounds pretty secure." Gangrel said sarcastically. "Shut up, boy" replied the other guard, who held the door for Gangrel. They walked down a corridor to where the dungeon stairwell could be accessed. "You're perfectly fine on your own from here, right?" asked one guard. Gangrel looked up to both of them in puzzlement. "You mean you're going to let me roam free without being watched?" "Yes" replied one of them. "We're supposed to be watching the doors right now, see?" The other chimed in. "Y-yeah, plus we've never gone down there into the d-dungeons either. Kind of creepy dark down there. Just give us your word that you won't do anything bad, okay?" With a mockery salute, Gangrel nodded. "I'll keep my nose clean, and you can go back to your posts." He said in a cheeky superior tone. From there they departed, and Gangrel headed down to the deep dark dungeons again.

Once he reached the bottom of the stairwell he was greeted to the dimly lit and cold prison corridors he remembered. Gangrel walked about the chilling dungeon with light steps. "Where the hell are you?" Gangrel whispered to himself, then thought to himself that he didn't know who he was looking for. "_Down the hall, take a right, then run._" He felt a shiver travel down his spine. Who said that? Was it behind him? Was it in his head? He could have sworn he heard someone whisper directions to him. Just as he was slowly recovering over the now gripping paranoia he heard footsteps behind him. Almost wanting to bolt, Gangrel somehow managed to lightly dash down the corridor. "Take a right, take a right" He whispered to himself as he took the right of the hall. When he reached that end he heard the footsteps coming closer, now a jog. His heart began pounding out of his chest as he bolted down the new hall as fast as he can. No doubt it was probably a prison guard, but that would end his little trip on the spot. He didn't want to find out, all he wanted to do was run. Gangrel never stopped, not even when the fleeting thought of a pitch black corridor that never seemed to end crossed his mind. He was about to give up but saw a small speck of light ahead. His heart nearly soared as he picked up speed with what energy he had left. Soon the speck of light grew into a torchlight and a lone cell. Gangrel stopped and began gulping for air. His legs were shaking from exhaustion, ready to collapse. He was about to fall backwards when he heard someone speak.

"Hey!" The voice spoke quietly but sharply. "What brings you down here?" Gangrel focused his gaze to a thug with a facemask covering the lower half of his face. The crook's cloak was a faded maroon, and underneath was a light metal breastplate. A closer look revealed the man's face was sallow and pale, and he was sickly thin. Gangrel coughed and crept closer.

"Easy man, I can't hurt you from in here. Even if bars didn't separate us, I believe you'd have no problem snapping my bones in two." Gangrel tried not to pay the man's poor and sickening condition any mind. "I have something to ask you." He asked the withered thug. "Fire away." Was the response he was given. "Were you one of the thugs that was part of…hold on, trying to remember…yeah, the Masked Devils Brigade?" The thief nodded and sighed, seemingly exasperated. "Yes I was part of that gang. Fresh new group from what I heard in a pub. Decided I needed some coin, so I asked where to go. Then it gets weird. At that very moment the door opens and this tall masked man walks in the pub. We're all watching him, but me most of all because this stranger was headed straight towards me. Shaking in my boots he had me. He asked me if I wanted to join their band of thieves, and I said yes. I then asked if this group was the one I intended to join in the first place. The stranger told me I was correct. I kind of mused to him that it seemed coincidence that he found me when I asked to join at that very moment." The bandit shuddered. "He told me nothing is coincidental, that everyone is always in the right spots at the right time. That accidents were lies. When I asked why, he said fate follows its own fixed path. He also spoke of something about time being changed every now and then, but I digress. Anyway, we set off to plunder the Plegian capital first thing in the morn. I assume you know how the raid went: we came in, pillaged and stole whatever we could get our hands on, then the king and his troops wipe us out. Now here I sit, the last of the Brigade. Probably won't last long -"

"Wait what?" Gangrel interrupted. "You are the last of them left alive?" The bandit shrugged. "Afraid so. Others died down in these dungeons, some dying immediately at random times to others who were decaying from the inside out." He pointed at himself. "Matter of fact, I am decaying inside myself." Gangrel tried his best not to vomit. "Okay…ugh, disgusting to even think about. Do you know anything else about the six who led you?" "Nope." Replied the dying criminal. "Just the fact that they vanished not too long ago without leaving a trace. You'd think they'd help us break out after they did, you know as a team and all-"

"Hold on! You said they broke out!?" Gangrel frantically began shaking the metal bars of the thug's cell. The criminal fell back in panic and fear. "Why yes! Heard the guards found the cell open, and the men inside missing. Why?" Gangrel motioned him closer, then whispered: "Those six men were dead when I checked on them before. They were hacked to pieces, but I found them intact." The thug began to shake uncontrollably. "Y-you speak t-the truth boy?" Gangrel nodded. "Yes. I am sure of it." Suddenly the brigand fell to the ground coughing and hacking violently. Then, as quickly as his coughing fit had occurred, he collapsed and died. All Gangrel could do was stand there, looking at the now dead brigand that lay before him. But he wouldn't stay there long, for he soon heard someone coming down the corridor a great distance away. No doubt the guard must have heard the dead man's coughing commotion somehow, or maybe they were doing a routine check-up on him. Gangrel couldn't find any way out of the situation, but then he heard another voice from somewhere in his head.

"_Pull torch. Secret exit. Run._"

This time he didn't stand to think about who or what the voice was, or where it came from. On instinct he followed his commands and pulled the torch hanging on the wall. As he suspected a section of the wall came down to reveal a secret exit. He dashed into the tunnel, hearing the door close itself behind him. This time he didn't need to run long to find a ladder leading to a trapdoor. Carefully lifting it, he found he was now in the courtyard. Closing the trapdoor, which was covered in stone to match the path, Gangrel quickly found his way out of the Plegian castle and back to the capital city. Exhausted from his venture into the depths of Plegia's great fortress, he strolled back to his home. When he got back he found Emmeryn was waiting for him. She ran up to him and embraced him tightly.

"There you are!" She cried with delight. "I was beginning to worry you wouldn't come back. You were gone for hours."

Gangrel looked at her in surprise, then began to gently stroke the back of her head. "It's been that long? Huh, well sorry about that dear." He quickly began to piece up a story that would fit with what he told her earlier. "That King Vladmire, heh, he sure loves to talk! Never met a more talkative person." Emmeryn sighed with relief. "Well I'm glad that you didn't get yourself into trouble."

After everything that happened that day, Gangrel decided that the next few days he would take it easy. Spending more time with Emmeryn was way better than sneaking around in the depths of dungeons. And that's exactly what he planned to do. But first he was going to get a good night's sleep. Slipping under the covers of his bed, Gangrel quickly began to fall asleep.

"_Gaaaaaangrel…_"

"_Gaaaaaaangrel…_"

Gangrel felt like he was floating in air. He looked around to find that the six dread fighters, in their stitched-up and pieced together glory, encircled him.

"_When time is threatened…god of the underworld…nightmare reborn_"

"_We die, we come back…neverending cycle…_"

"_Freed us_"

Those last words reverberated in Gangrel's head. This time he had found the strength to speak. "What do you mean? Who freed you?" All six pointed to him

"_You_"

"_Freed us from unending torment_"

"_You are our host…our escape…_"

"_In return, we will offer our services to you._"

Gangrel remembered the whispers he heard. So he wasn't hearing things. It was them telling him what to do and where to go.

"_However, this is only a fraction of what we can do_"

This sparked Gangrel's attention. "Tell me." He requested. "What else can you offer me?"

"_In due time, you will find our secret. For now, all you need to know is…the Poem of Storms lies at the Sea King's Throne_"

"_Now wake up. Fulfill your destiny_"

Gangrel slowly woke up. His head was swimming with thoughts of last night's dream combined with yesterday's little adventure underground. Grabbing a loaf of bread and tearing it up hungrily, he wondered if he had found the answers to his questions. It seemed that while some of his questions had gotten answered, new ones sprouted to take their place. What did those dread fighters mean when they said he was their host? What was "The Poem of Storms lies at the Sea King's Throne?" Gangrel never heard of any "Sea King" before, and he wasn't too keen to finding out either. In fact, there was only one thing he wanted to do that day. Gangrel walked out of the main room back to the bedroom to find Emmeryn had finally gotten out of bed.

"Sleep well?" He asked. Emmeryn nodded, yawning. "Only because I had you to protect me from nightmares." She said. "I feel safer with you around." Gangrel's cheeks turned a little pink. "Umm, thanks. But I don't know how you feel safe with me. I mean, I almost got myself killed by freaks wearing masks." Emmeryn slowly approached him, taking hold of his arm. "The fact that you care so much, that you're willing to fight for a friend and the others around you, is what makes me feel safe." Gangrel smiled and shook his head. "You could say that about the guards who make it their duty to protect us day and night." "True," Emmeryn replied. "But you have something they don't have." "And what might that be?" He asked her. "Your charm, my desert prince." Gangrel smiled and hugged Emmeryn tight. "Aww that's so sweet of you to say. And I see you decided on a little nickname for me after all, huh?" She beamed at seeing Gangrel's positive response and excitedly embraced him back. "I knew you would love it!" She took Gangrel's hands in hers. "Want to take a stroll?" She asked. "Why not?" Gangrel replied. The two set out hand-in-hand into the streets of Plegia, where Gangrel's worries could vanish from his mind and leave him in peace.


End file.
